Page 1 of Tender Wild

Chapter One

Miguel nudged the door open wider, rusted hinges squeaking. Every muscle tensed as shafts of sunlight pierced through broken windows high above, illuminating dust particles that swirled like tiny galaxies before drifting back into shadow. Diablo followed him inside, his black leather boots scuffing against the dusty floor. The air was thick and musty, carrying the scent of old rust and mildew.

Dark patches stained the concrete floor, leading deeper into the building.

Miguel’s scarred face twitched, his wolf senses amplifying everything. The buzzing. The smell. The dread building at the base of his skull. He yanked his bandana up over his nose, but the stench still punched through.

“Smells like death.” Diablo pulled a bandana from his pocket, tying it around his face like they were about to rob a train instead of investigate the abandoned warehouse they were visiting way too often.

Miguel didn’t respond. The stench crawled into his nostrils and stuck there—a mix of copper, rot, and something else. Something wrong.

“You hear that?” Diablo whispered.

“Hard not to.” Miguel tilted his head toward the droning buzz that filled the cavernous space, like hundreds of flies swarming.

Last time he’d been there, only a few buzzed around. Now the sound had multiplied into something that scraped against Miguel’s eardrums like sandpaper. Each step forward only made the buzzing louder, the stench stronger. Something cold settled in his gut.

He reached back, fingers brushing the gun tucked into his waistband. Cold metal against his fingertips. He glanced up at one of the cameras Suero, Cesar, and Lucio had installed, knowing they had eyes on them but still not feeling reassured. They’d reported finding blood after they’d returned, but nothing else.

“Maybe we should call for some backup.” They weren’t even supposed to be here. He’d let Diablo convince him to come along. Something about a promise he’d made, though the brother hadn’t gone into details.

Matias was going to fucking kill them. Miguel should’ve kept his ass at the tavern, slinging drinks and thinking about the night he’d hung out with Jared. They hadn’t had sex, but the time they’d spent together was still unforgettable.

“You saying I’m not enough backup?” Diablo asked, voice tight. His eyes remained fixed on the shadows ahead. He still couldn’t shift into either form. This place had to be a grim reminder of what the hyenas had done to him. Miguel wasn’t going to try and reassure him. Nothing he said would lessen Diablo’s bitter anger.

“Could be a deer,” he said, voice muffled behind fabric. “Wandered in, couldn’t find its way out.”

“You don’t believe that for a second,” Miguel replied. “Blood trail heads that way.” He nodded toward a set of double doors.

“Fresh.” Diablo’s nostrils flared.

As they drew closer, the flies gathered more densely, forming a dark cloud above something lying on the ground. Beneath the buzz, a wet sound. Dripping. Miguel crouched, squinting through the dim light. He kept his breaths shallow, trying not to breathe in more of the rancid air than necessary.

“Fuck this,” Diablo muttered, pulling out his phone. The flashlight beam cut through the eerie stillness. A dark pool had formed on the floor ahead, spreading outward from behind a stack of rotting pallets.

Miguel edged forward, each step measured. Diablo pulled his own gun, keeping it low, cell phone still gripped in his other hand.

“Ay dios mío,” Diablo breathed.

Not a deer.

A body lay sprawled on its back, trapped in mid-transformation. A bear shifter from the looks of it. Miguel guessed male from his height and build. His eyes stared upward, cloudy and fixed, mouth open in a final, silent scream. The blood had drained completely, pooling on the concrete below in a massive, congealed puddle where flies swarmed thick as oil.

Not a clean death. Messy. Brutal.

Miguel crouched beside the body, careful to avoid the blood. The smell was suffocating, piercing through his bandana as he looked closer. Not only to memorize, but to understand what they were dealing with.

Diablo turned slowly. The flashlight beam swept across the warehouse floor, revealing scuff marks in the dust. “Drag marks.”

Following the marks, they discovered five more bodies, each one just like the first.

A chill ran through Miguel’s veins. They had to be failed test subjects of whatever serum Diablo had been injected with. He glanced at Diablo and saw fear in his eyes. That could’ve been him had his body rejected the serum like these ones obviously had.

“Take pictures,” Diablo said flatly, jaw tight. “Matias needs to see this.”

I wish to god I could unsee this. Miguel pulled out his phone and snapped over two dozen photos, wondering who these men were. From the color of their fur, three were bears, the other two cheetahs. This was a horrific way to fucking die.

Miguel tucked his phone into the inside pocket of his leather, the weight of what they’d just seen settling deep in his gut. Six shifters lay dead, their bodies contorted and caught mid-transformation, faces locked in expressions of torment. The hyenas weren’t just experimenting.

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